


Don't mess with Athos' boy

by Arya54



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Gen, hurt d'Artagnan!, overprotective musketeers!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-20
Updated: 2014-02-20
Packaged: 2018-01-13 04:23:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1212538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arya54/pseuds/Arya54
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone knows not to mess with Athos' boy, well everyone apart from a few silly bandits.<br/>No slash! father/son relationship! (Some of you may view this as slash but alas i cannot account for all slash seekers!)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't mess with Athos' boy

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! This is my very first fic on here so please be nice! Flames are welcome but please be gentle :)  
> I'm loving the Musketeers series and i couldn't resist doing one of these cute fluffy fics!  
> Hope you enjoy!! :D

d’Artagnan thrust towards Porthos who easily deflected it and returned with a slash towards d’Artagnan’s head. The boy’s eyes widened as he saw the blade coming toward his head. He ducked just in time, narrowly avoiding having his head removed from his shoulders. For a moment he remained where he was, crouched on the ground, trying to steady his hammering heart. _That_ was _not_ a blow one expected during a practise spar. That was a _lethal_ attack.

A bear-like head appeared in front of him and he looked up to see Porthos offering a hand to help him up, a vaguely guilty look on his face. “Sorry lad, got a bit carried away. On the other hand that was a perfect dodge my friend, if a little inelegant.

“It’s alright Porthos. I need people to keep me on my toes if I’m going to improve at all.” This at least put a grin on the man’s face.

“Aye, and improve you have lad.”

They turned around to go and fetch their shirts to put back on when they saw Athos and Aramis off to the side watching. While Aramis looked disapprovingly at Porthos, Athos looked truly thunderous.

“Oh shit.” Porthos looked terrified.

“What’s wrong?” d’Artagnan inquired innocently.

Porthos looked at him like he was mad. “What’s wrong? Athos is going to kill me is what’s wrong!” He was beginning to look quite panicked.

“Why on earth would he do that?” d’Artagnan looked so lost and confused and Porthos knew that adorable face would not help his cause.

“Why? Because I nearly decapitated his little boy!” Porthos was by now debating whether or not to make a run for it. Move to the country and change his name.

“Little boy? I’m not anyone’s little boy!” d’Artagnan looked as though he couldn’t decide whether to be confused, angry or to sulk. It was a face of epic proportions of adorableness and had Porthos melting until…

“PORTHOS!”

It was official, his life was over.

Even Aramis looked sympathetic behind his gleeful smirk. Really he did.

“WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?! YOU COULD HAVE KILLED HIM!” Athos’ face was a picture of rage.

“I.. I’m s..s..s..sorry. I los..st m..mys..self.” It would have been comical to see the big bear-like man stuttering if not for the dire situation.

Athos glared a bit more, he might even have snarled, making Porthos gulp before turning to d’Artagnan.

Immediately his face changed from rage to affection and parental concern. “Are you ok? He didn’t hurt you did he?”

“No Thos, I’m fine.” The boy replied while nuzzling his face into the man’s chest. The sight was precious.

“Good.” The man squeezed the boy tightly for a moment before placing a tender kiss to his forehead and letting go.

Before d’Artagnan could go find someone else to beg to spar with him, Treville leaned over the balcony and called the three musketeers and their boy up to his office.

“We’ve had reports of bandits just outside Paris.” He began as soon as all were present. “I want you thr… four to go and put a stop to them.” Even Treville knew by now that wherever he sent Athos, he had to send d’Artagnan to.

“Yes sir, we shall leave immediately.” Athos said before turning and walking out of the door, d’Artagnan on his heels.

They all mounted up and we’re quickly on their way. It didn’t take long to find the bandits and a battle commenced. The musketeers clearly outmatched the bandits and drove them down in numbers until there was only a few left.

Just then a pain-filled cry punctuated the air that was easily recognisable to the three elder musketeers. _d’Artagnan._ They all spun around to see the boy on the ground clutching his stomach.

“Oh, you so should _not_ have done that…” Aramis quietly sung under his breath, although in the silent clearing all heard it. He began edging his way to the boy to make sure he was ok.

“Oh shouldn’t I? And whys that then?” The bandit asked, obviously the leader but his overconfident attitude.

Aramis said nothing but a small prayer for the man.

“What is this!? I do not need your prayers!”

“Oh you will…” Porthos promised, grinning like a maniac.

Before the bandit could question further, Athos stepped forward.

He easily resembled an enraged stallion whose foal had just been ruthlessly slaughtered, even though d’Artagnan was already making his way to his feet with Aramis’ help.

“How dare you…” was all the warning the bandit got before Athos was on him in a whirl of blades.

The battle (if you could call it that) did not last long at all.

Porthos had quickly taken care of the remaining two bandits also, leaving them alone in the clearing.

Athos wasted no time in dashing to d’Artagnan’s side. “It’s alright Athos, the wound wasn’t bad. I’ve already bandaged it and I will clean it when we get back. He’ll be fine.” Aramis soothed the enraged man.

“Yeah Thos I’m fine.” D’Artagnan said, using his pet name to help calm the man further as he had done in the courtyard for Porthos.

Athos finally gave a small smile and gathered the boy in his arms.

d’Artagnan went easily snuggling into the warm chest when suddenly he found himself being hoisted into the air. He let out a surprised yelp before he felt his bottom connect with the saddle of Athos’ horse. He attempted to protest when Athos jumped on behind him, but realized it was pointless when the man wrapped his arms around his sides to gather the reins.

Aramis walked over to the body of the bandit leader.

“And let this be a lesson to you my friend. Never hurt, or attempt to hurt,” cue glance to Porthos “Athos’ boy lest you wish to incur his wrath.”

And with that the three musketeers and their boy rode away back to Paris.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you all enjoyed!  
> This will probably be posted on my fanfictiion account as well (same name, same person)


End file.
